Judgement
by Miss Pyromaniac
Summary: A short story about a young girl living in a life only imagined in a dream; in a world of werewolves and bitter rivalry, how can one torn between loyalty and love truly make the right judgements?


**here's a short story I wrote maybe a few months ago for a writing competition for a library. It turned out they'd gotten too many admissions to the contest to consider mine (I live a good few hours away), so I figured I'd put it up here just for fun.**

**Enjoy! Reviews (and constructive criticism!) are luff. :3**

* * *

"So. How do you propose to explain all of this?"

I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair, hazel gaze fixed quite intently on my worn converse shoes as I averted her piercing stare. Miss Sterling had the ability to peel you down like an onion with her dark brown eyes, but I couldn't take that. Not right now, not with so much on my shoulders already. I couldn't spill.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Came my quiet reply, trying not to fidget too much. It made me look even more guilty.

"Amanda." My principal leaned back in her chair, her long fingers tapping against the hard oak of her desk. "Half of the art wing is demolished. I need you to tell me how it got this way. And I need you to tell me now." Her voice was calm, but it had the scolding edge to it.

But I couldn't tell her what had really happened. There was too much at stake for the truth. The art wing wasn't technically demolished, anyway. The structure itself was fine. It was just the inside hallways and classrooms that had been clawed up and utterly destroyed. I doubted that she's appreciate my reasoning, though, so I didn't say anything. Instead, I tried to conjure some sort of excuse. "I didn't mean to. I--" What was I supposed to say, though? It was next to impossible to come up for any sort of excuse for the damage I'd done to the school. And yet, a lie would be more believable than the truth. Last I checked, nobody believed in werewolves.

After another long pause, I gave an audible sigh and tried again. "I'll clean up after it, I promise. My, er, dog got into the school and went crazy." Finally my eyes flickered up to meet Miss Sterling's. Instantly I wished I hadn't. Her eyebrows rose.

"Oh? And what was your dog doing in the building?"

By now, I had my story made up. I'd always been adept at lying as long as the circumstances weren't too insane. Now, my abilities were being stretched. "He'd followed me in, ma'am, when I went to, uhm, get one of my projects." It was true, usually I never brought by completed assignments home. "I didn't know he'd been behind me, and then Erik showed up."

Now this part was believable, and my principal merely nodded. Erik was one of the richer kids at the school, a notorious bully who just loved to pick on smaller dirt-poor kids like me. Feeling a little more confident, I went on with my story. "Yeah, so he and his friends were giving me a hard time. They left after my dog went crazy defensive. But I guess he still had some energy to spare, and I couldn't hold him back long enough to leave with him." Finished, I sat back in the hard wooden chair and waited tensely for the judging.

"Hmm." Miss Sterling watched me carefully a moment, and in an instant my gaze was back to my feet. "Well, that's an interesting story. I'll consider a punishment for you, because your dog should not have been on school premises. You may go."

Before her sentence was finished I was on my feet, grabbing my stitched-up backpack off the floor and bolting out the door. I hated confrontations like that; that did wonders for my already frayed nerves, and adults dragged them out to unbelievable lengths. Besides, I'd given out my lie, and I didn't want to do anything to give myself away. But once again, the truth would only get me into deeper trouble. Even mentioning the word werewolf would probably get me a three different detentions. Marshall Spade Preparatory School wasn't the place for childhood games, as the teachers put it.

Once outside, I shouldered my pack and grabbed my small bicycle. It was a fairly short ride home when you went through the back forests, versus the much longer trip on the roads. I would be home in no less than ten minutes.

Although, "home" wasn't exactly where I was headed. Truth was, I was hardly ever "home" as most people define it. Instead I usually camped out in a roomy tree house I'd built with my dad years ago, back when he was still around. A few of the boards were a little questionable and the roof leaked in a few spots, but other than that it was perfect for someone like me. It wasn't too far from the house, either, and I had a method of sneaking in if I ever needed anything. And the fact that it was in the middle of the woods was something I simply loved. Nature had always been a sort of haven for me.

But like always, I had to go to the house first to get Frisk. He was my large dog (yes, I actually have one), and if it weren't for school policy and my mom's stupid rules, I'd take him everywhere with me. For the most part he was a mutt, but his beautiful russet fur had distinct traces of wolf in it, which I absolutely adored. Sadly, though, his company meant a trip home.

Getting in was always easy enough. Our house was an old Victorian-style mansion that had obviously been worth a whole lot decades ago, before my mom had moved in and let it fall into shambles. The only way she would have every afforded it was through my father; he was a very successful lawyer in New York, making him quite rich. He couldn't stand my mom's controlling behavior and massive drinking problem, though, and had left eight years ago without any warning. Nowadays, all we ever got from him was the occasional child support check in the mail.

The gate was open, though, and Frisk was tied to a stake in the front yard. His head rose as soon as he heard me park my bike, tail wagging instantaneously as he began to bark. I winced for just a moment. I didn't want to wake my mom up and have to deal with her today. Running over, I quickly had him unhooked from his lead.

"Frisk! Heyy Frisk, how are yah, buddy?" I cooed playfully, scratching him behind the ears as he set his paws on my legs in order to lick my face. "C'mon, let's get outta here." Hopping back up on my bike, I was just out of the gate when I heart my mom yelling for me. Not like I had any intention of stopping for a chat, though. I was too busy racing Frisk back to the tree house.

But to my surprise, I arrived to find three other bikes leaning against the the nearby trees. My hazel eyes blinked as I slowly pieced it together; oh, crud! I was in trouble now. Not wanting to keep them waiting, I climbed up the makeshift ladder and hoisted myself up through the trapdoor.

Two boys and a girl were waiting for me to come up, and their joking ceased as soon as my head poked through. They were all high schoolers, a good couple years older than me and proud of it. I myself was only in seventh grade. And it had been clear on the faces as soon as I'd gone through my unexpected transformation that they didn't exactly like my lack of age. Now the expression was only intensified as they stared at me in their ambush.

"What do you think you were doing?" The question was straightforward. The oldest boy who sat by the window gave me a hard look as he expected a response. They all did. Swallowing, I tried to sound rational.

"I didn't mean to," Came my reply. Pitiful.

"Of course you didn't. Otherwise we'd be ripping you apart." The girl spoke, scanning me up and down as I swung my feet through the hole. "Don't think we're not still considering it."

The first boy spoke again. "You need to spill on why you think it's okay to go wolf whenever you'd like. Thanks to you, we have to cover up for your sorry behind. The elders want to know why we're suddenly out in the open."

I gulped quietly. The elders were the werewolf council, the ones who kept us hidden and made sure we were never exposed. Getting in trouble with them meant things were bad. Suddenly I felt myself spill. "It was an accident, I swear! I was sitting around out behind the art wing when I saw one of Blake's wolves prowling around. Well, I know I had to do something, so I transformed to try to scare him off. The other wolf saw me and ran through the wing. My instincts went crazy and I went overboard trying to catch him." Looking back on it, it'd been stupid to chase him like that, even if I couldn't have helped the reaction. Newborn werewolves like myself often had raging adrenaline and little self control in those kinds of situations.

There was a long pause before the younger boy spoke. "One of Blake's wolves?" His voice was no more than a deep growl. The other two of them followed suit. For a moment, my stupidity was forgotten. All attention turned to the oldest boy, their pack leader.

"I will tolerate this no longer. I'm declaring war!" Chris hissed. Werewolves worked like wild wolves did; they had packs, and didn't like it when other werewolves trespassed. Especially as often as Blake and his pack did. In response to his words, the other two nodded in agreement.

"Shall I alert the elders?" The girl, Erin, asked as she went to pull out her cell phone.

"No. This one's going off the record." Chris was still growling. "I'm sick and tired of them showing their ugly faces around here. It's time we draw the line."

The other boy glanced at me. "What about Mandy?" He commented. "We can't let her actions go unpunished." At this, Chris returned his hard stare upon my averting hazel gaze.

"She will be forced to sit out this battle," He replied coldly to Ian's comment, "She is clearly still a newborn, and not to be trusted in these matters." His blue gaze intensified. "Don't get involved, you hear me? That's a direct order." I merely nodded, suddenly afraid to consider otherwise. Alphas had to be obeyed, something with a pack member's brain chemistry made it so. And I hated it; restriction had never really gone over well with me.

"Good." Chris' tone suddenly changed to a businesslike drone. "There's no school tomorrow, so we will attack at daybreak. All four of us are expected to be present, although Mandy is not to engage unless I call upon her to. We will stay in formation with..." I blocked him out, hugging my knees and feeling rather disappointed. Nothing he said involved me, anyway. I was just the useless sidearm that people had to put up with. Not that I usually minded, the whole werewolf life had come on me like a sudden adventure and I figured the excitement outweighed the frustration others felt towards me. After all, I was used to being set aside. But this? I'd never experienced a battle, and here I was ordered to sit back on my first opportunity. Not to mention whatever trouble I'd be facing at school come Monday.

I'd been so lost in thought that I almost didn't notice the pack disperse, and got out of the way for the other three to climb down. Everything was planned out, now everybody was going to need to get ready for the action tomorrow. Everybody except for me, anyway. I was usually the odd one out.

Finally everybody left, and I climbed down the tree to visit Frisk. His tail was wagging from the excitement of the visitors, but his barks subsided when he noticed my downtrodden expression. I swear, that dog can read minds. His nose nuzzled my hand as he gave me a puzzled look. "Aw, don't look at me like that, I'm fine." I faked a grin and grabbed a stick off the ground, shaking off a few excess pine needles as I waves it around in the air. "Wannit, buddy?" Well, of course he did, but he barked and growled anyway to show his anticipation. Wheeling my arm around I threw it, and watched it fly as the russet dog bolted after it. Playing with Frisk always made me feel better, no matter what was on my mind. So as afternoon turned into evening I continued our game, the two of us running around together until we were both stopped panting.

That night, though, all my thoughts came rushing back. As I lay in my sleeping bag I stared out the window above my head and up at the twinkling sky, trying to organize everything. So, this battle would be off the record. Technically werewolf law said an act of war had to first be processed through the elder council, but there wasn't really much of a penalty against it. Apart from the fact that no post-war settlement could be rightfully enforced by the council, anyway. But if an alpha chose not to alert them, it usually meant they expected things to turn out gruesome. I wasn't getting a good vibe from all of this, and it was after a long struggle that I finally fell into a light and troubled sleep.

It was a painfully short sleep before my eyes flickered open, hazel orbs almost luminous as they reflected the full moon above. Ironic, really, how the werewolves of the district would be fighting it out under such a incorrectly symbolical figurehead. Although it did mean that an individual's strength would be a little more than average. Did that mean the battle would be more dangerous? Probably. Just another check on my things to worry about.

* * *

It had been my internal alarm that had woken me up, my feral instincts alerting me to the premonition of dawn. It would be here within the next half hour, meaning it was high time for me to prepare. The nice thing about being poor, though, is that I didn't really have a standard to live up to. After a quick brush and half-hearted mouth washing, I downed a bag of chips and was ready to go. Frisk was watching me with curious eyes but deemed it too early to raises his head from his paws. Until I secured the trapdoor and went into transformation position anyway. The mutt seemed to love chasing me around even more when I was in my wolf form. It only took a minute for me to shift; hair grew, clothes ripped, teeth lengthened, however horror writers want to describe it. By the time I was done I'd become quite the petite little wolf. In comparison a werewolf is a considerable bit larger than a regular wolf, but I was only a little taller when I stood. My fur mimicked my sandy brown hair and radiated the same dusty shade, looking even dirtier than my hair did. I grinned at Frisk, and began to run in the direction of the lake. It was just a little ways out of the opposite side of town and quite a distance for me to go, but I didn't mind the warm-up jog. Besides, I move much faster than my bike ever did, and in no time I was nearing the shore.

Apparently, I was the last one to arrive. Chris, Erin, and Ian were already growling to one another about their plan of action. I gave a meager bark of greeting ad sat off to the side. Today I wasn't welcome in the pack, and I knew it well. This was my punishment for my rash behavior. Curling my tail around my paws, I sat as still as as twelve-year-old can and watched Frisk lope around just within the treeline.

Finally dawn gave it's hasty approach, but it's lighted display had barely risen over the forest canopy when the other side of the lake rustled with movement. A border patrol was coming, and they'd scented Chris sitting just beyond their marks. They came over growling, ears back defensively. It turns out Blake wasn't around; these were just his minions.

"What are you doing here?" Growled Sophie, the she-wolf I'd chased carelessly down the art wing back at school. I signaled so with the smallest yip, and Chris flicked an ear in recognition.

"Just wondering why you were scratching around on our territory," He barked coldly in reply.

"Maybe because I'm not afraid of you? Certainly not of that little midget you've got running around." At his her smirking gaze rested on me for just the moment, and I felt my fur rise in a bristle.

"Perhaps we're here for the same reason," Erin spat, clearly fed up with small talk. She was ready to fight.

"We're here to keep your flea-bitten pelts off our land," Chris barked dangerously, lashing his tail.

Sophie rolled her eyes, clearly not intimidated. But this time, it was her companion that spoke. "Ooh, how _terrifying_. Get lost, dogs." It was with that that final aggravation Chris bared his teeth and lunged at the werewolf, beginning the battle. I slowly crept back in the woods and out of sight, so I wouldn't be noticed or attacked. After a few minutes Blake and his beta ran in to aid, but I was surprised to see that we were actually winning despite being outnumbered. Shrugging I looked back over at Frisk, who had taken a place beside me where he lolled his tongue cheerfully at the fight before us. For awhile, I managed to sit still and behave, knowing I couldn't go against direct orders. And for the first patch of time, I found it manageable.

After the battle had grown repetitive to me I turned my gaze to the oncoming dawn, staring at the beauty of the pinks and blues on the rippling lake and sighing. It really was beautiful. I kept my eyes fixated on the colors upon the water's surface as the sun rose farther into the sky, watching then divert to darker pinks. Then I noticed that something was wrong. The sun was above the tree line by now, and the light show was long since over. Yet there were still dark colors in the lake that weren't natural. I squinted at it until it made sense, and I withdrew with a shiver. Those weren't crimson reflections floating in the water. It was blood. My hazel gave flew back to the battle that I'd been ignoring for a good length of time, to find my pack literally flaying Blake's wolves. They were pushed back into the shallows and fighting to gain the ground they had lost without success. I suddenly felt cold; Chris hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said he was going to go all-out on them. He really meant it when he said he wanted them gone.

That was when I knew what I had to do. I couldn't just sit here and watch my pack mates kill brethren, no matter what pack they were from. They wouldn't listen to me, I was just some annoying little kid to them. But I knew who they _would_ listen to. Ignoring my pack instinct that yelled at me to stay put, I turned tail and sprinted back through the forest.

The trip wasn't long into town, and I felt glad that I lived in a small place where a werewolf could sneak around and not look too out of place. I nervously made sure the coast was clear before stopping in front of the police station. But I found myself hesitant, and for a full minute I didn't move. If I turned myself in I would expose the entire werewolf population, fail the revered elders, and probably send a lot of the world into a shocked chaos. All in the name of saving four lives. Was it really worth it? My mind drifted back to my early childhood, to playing on the swing sets at school with the teenagers that were fighting for their lives right now at the water's edge. For just a moment my thoughts lingered lovingly on the figure of one boy, the mischievous grin on his face as he lured me into his playful schemes... The same boy who was about to lose his life and pack in the crimson waves. Feeling Frisk by my side and knowing he would serve as my undeniable identification, I took a deep breath and plunged through the double doors.


End file.
